Hi friends in Austen-land!!!!
Have had to learn – at my age! Am over sixty – a brand-new cello concerto written by a London composer, so I’m behind with everything. Luckily for me, Regina’s on the ball!!!!
First, a brilliant offer: https://booksweeps.com/giveaway/historical-fiction-book-giveaway-sweepstakes/
Second, another brilliant offer, organised by our own Amanda Kai: https://authoramandakai.wixsite.com/home/post/ilovejaff2026
Third, check out my latest newsletter, below, where there are three more Austen/historical fiction giveaways, plus cartoon!!!
If you like it, do consider signing up for my monthly newsletter – not always monthly because – hey – as is well-known, I’m diagnosed ADHD: https://www.alicemcveigh.com/newsletter/
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Alice’s 2024 Pride and Perjury consists of nine short stories inspired by Austen’s P&P, and three – arguably better – short stories inspired by Emma, one of which – entitled Pride and Perjury – was a finalist, last year, in Chanticleer’s annual short story awards.
As Valentine’s day approaches (see Amanda Kai’s promo on the subject!!!!), here’s a slice of one of the lightest short stories in my Pride and Perjury – which was itself one of only seven finalists at the last London Book Fair (the UK Selfies Book Awards).
Excerpt from Alice McVeigh’s Valentine’s Day at the Bennets’
February 10th
‘I am fifteen,’ said Lydia, ‘and I have been fifteen this long age – I am very nearly sixteen – and yet no one has ever troubled themselves to send me a single valentine.’
‘No one,’ Kitty reminded her, ‘has ever sent any one of us a valentine. Not even Jane.’
They sat in gloom for a moment, contemplating the sorry state of their existence. Then Lydia said, ‘But that fellow in London wrote some verses on Jane, at least. At least she had that!’
‘Perhaps, were we to go to London, some gentleman might write verses on us?’
‘But that could never happen, for Papa detests London.’
‘Yes, and Mama seems to have given over visiting our aunt,’ said Kitty.
‘I do not suppose I shall ever go to town, till I am dead.’
And they remained seated on the bench, meditating upon their parents’ unreasonableness.
Then Kitty said, ‘There is still the curate, Mr Thompson.‘
‘Yes, yes, we all know what the curate said to Mama! – But there is a very great difference between praising her “five fine girls” and sending even one of those girls a valentine… and it would be so delicious! There were such sweet ones in the magazine that our aunt sent Mama. The one with the little white lace fringe!’
Kitty clasped her hands together. ‘And the one with the tiny, embroidered hearts… I should die of rapture should someone send me a valentine with embroidered hearts!’
‘People do not die of rapture, Kitty, not even in novels… But the embossed hearts were exceedingly pretty and then, the verse!’ And Lydia dreamily recited,
Thou art my love and I am thine
I drew thee to my Valentine.
The lot was cast and then I drew,
And Fortune said it should be you.
‘It should be you,’ repeated Kitty. ‘Oh! I should die of rapture should Mr Thompson the curate –’
‘– or one of the officers –’ added Lydia, temporarily suspending her objection to death by rapture.
‘– or one of the officers – send me a valentine!’
‘And if that officer was Wickham!’
‘I should not be as particular as you for all the world,’ said Kitty. ‘For, though Wickham is unusually well-looking, I should not mind another officer, instead.’
‘But not Mr Lindsay, or Mr Bucknall.’
‘Oh, never! For they are wed already.’
And they sat for a moment, while Lydia thought of Wickham and Kitty thought of Mr Thompson, though his nose was rather long. Suddenly, Lydia jumped up. ‘I have had an idea, Kitty, which might perhaps work!’
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